


wintertime love

by revengeavenue



Category: The Smiths
Genre: Banter, Fluff, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Winter, the end is kinda funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 08:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revengeavenue/pseuds/revengeavenue
Summary: Johnny and Morrissey enjoy a cold winter night inside.





	wintertime love

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by wintertime love by the doors. a small draft of this has been sitting on my flash drive for a few months now, and today i decided to finish it. hope you enjoy!!

The wind blew harsh outside, whipping dusty soft snow about the town. Not a soul remained on the road, for it was much too dangerous to risk a trip when underneath inches of snow was a layer of slippery ice. A few people trudged along on the sidewalk, through the fresh precipitation that hadn't been shoveled yet. Perhaps they were going to the only convenience store open for something sweet, or perhaps they were simply out for some fresh air in their lungs. Bitter cold winter days seemed endless when there was nothing to do but stay trapped inside the warm walls of the house for countless hours.

Johnny and Morrissey didn’t mind one bit - in fact, they loved having a perfect excuse to stay holed up in the house together. It felt sweet and endearing to be alone in their little space, while the weather outside stayed ugly. The fire was bright and hot, and they sat sipping their favorite black tea in front of it. They had abandoned their shirts long ago - for the blanket wrapped around their shoulders was more than enough to hold in the warmth.

“I love nights like this,” Johnny spoke, voice soft in Morrissey’s ear. He felt so content in that moment; his heart as warm as the fire.

Morrissey smiled, and Johnny couldn’t help but admire the way the glow of the flames sent rippling shadows across his face. “So do I.” He then took one final sip of his tea, setting the mug down beside him.

Johnny snuggled closer to him. “Can you believe there’s people outside in this? They’re out of their minds.”

“Well, they might not have someone to stay inside with.”

“Maybe not,” Johnny considered. Morrissey was right. Not everyone was as lucky as they happened to be. They had something between them that most people deemed precious, like a the feeling of a warm draft while the others felt cold. 

Morrissey took Johnny’s hand, lifting it up to his mouth. He gently pressed a kiss on the back of his hand, where a blue vein was prominent. Its color went unnoticed in that moment, yet Morrissey always knew of its quiet presence.

The gesture caused Johnny’s face to heat up, but it was impossible to tell when it was already quite hot from the fire. Even after all the time he spent with Morrissey, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting like a teenager. It was somewhat embarrassing in public, but when they were alone together, none of that seemed to matter. His senses could react just as they wanted, free of judgment.

Morrissey still had a loose grip on his hand; he let his thumb caress the very place his lips just touched. “You’re so beautiful,” he told Johnny, as he watched the fire reflect in his eyes: flame by flame.

“And you are as well.” Johnny turned his head, noticing that Morrissey’s hair had become flat. It was in his eyes, contrasting his usual styled quiff. Sometimes, minuscule things such as that caused Johnny’s heart to skip a few beats.

Another kiss graced Johnny’s skin, but this time, on his cheek. He could tell that the calmness he felt was turning into drowsiness with time - it was getting late.

Johnny yawned, leaning into Morrissey further. “Let’s go to bed, I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” Morrissey complied, wrapping Johnny up in the blanket more than he already was. He tucked his arms underneath his knees, then lifted him up off the living room floor in one swift motion.

“I have perfectly functioning legs, you know.” Johnny had to laugh; it was such a Morrissey thing to do. He loved to do unnecessary favors for the sake of it.

Morrissey chuckled, holding him closer as he made his way to their bedroom. “I know, but you’re tired, so I thought you’d appreciate not having to use them.”

A few more steps later, and Johnny felt his back against the softness of the bed they shared every night. It was cold, though he knew once they were wrapped up together in all their blankets, they’d be warm in no time. Morrissey climbed in next to him, and threw the comforter over them, along with the blanket. It still held some of the heat from the fire. Johnny couldn’t think of anything more inviting, and he was much too tired to try.

Morrissey pulled Johnny into his chest and sighed, satisfied. He wrapped his arms around his bare waist, enveloping him in his warmth. He reckoned that nothing felt equally as good as holding Johnny in their bed, just before sleep. Their minds were relaxed and their bodies were tangled, and life seemed to be much simpler.

Johnny pulled his hand out of the safety of the blankets to run his fingers through Morrissey’s hair. “I like it like this, it’s... natural.”

“I hate it, I look like... I don’t know, an emo who got caught in the rain?”

“Oh my god, no you don’t. I happen to love it, now shut up and take a compliment,” Johnny laughed at Morrissey’s self deprecating humor. He could be so ridiculous sometimes.

Morrissey rolled his eyes; only the whites of them visible in the darkness of the room. “Well, I’m glad you do. Hey, I thought you said you were tired?”

“I don’t want to sleep, because when I wake up, it’ll be tomorrow and the storm will be over. I kinda like having an excuse to stay in the house all day with you. It’s like... the apocalypse,” Johnny rambled.

Johnny put his hand back under the covers, protecting it from the colder air. Morrissey grinned, “you’re absolutely insane. Go to sleep Johnny, your tired brain is talking again.”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

“And you’re weak as hell.”

Johnny scoffed, “that’s where you’re wrong, Moz. I could take you down, beat you up until you’re crying for your mum.”

Morrissey was cracking up. “Johnny, you’re a bottom. Also, you’re too kind and loving to beat me up without good reason. I’d have to do something real bad to piss you off.”

“Are you suggesting something?”

“No, sleep now. Goodnight, love you.”

Johnny closed his eyes and rested his head between Morrissey’s neck and shoulder. “Fine, goodnight. I love you.”

Morrissey rubbed Johnny’s back slowly, enough to soothe them both to slumber, while the storm outside came to an expected end. The wind died down, and the snow stopped coming. Just as Johnny predicted, there would no longer be an excuse to stay in the house all day come the new day. But who said they needed an excuse?


End file.
